


the reminder of our mortality

by empyrean03



Category: Persona 5
Genre: 2/2, Angst, Cussing, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Literal Sleeping Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Panic Attacks, light fluff, like major spoilers, mostly angst sowwy, persona 5 royal spoilers, the emotional moment that is february 2nd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:08:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23588908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empyrean03/pseuds/empyrean03
Summary: MAJOR P5R SPOILERSAkira can't possibly leave their last proper interactions with a simple goodbye.Everything seemed to slow down as Akechi reached for the door handle and Akira became hyper aware of his own situation way too suddenly. If he does nothing, stands there and wallows in his own cowardice, he will never have a moment with Akechi again. He can’t let it end like this.AKA the alternate of what went down on the emotional wreckage of 2/2
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 45
Kudos: 323





	the reminder of our mortality

How does somebody come to terms with death?

Death is inevitable. Akira knows that. It’ll come for everybody eventually, yet it’s something he doesn’t ever want to experience. Nor does he want anybody else to experience.

Scratch that. How does somebody come to terms with somebody else’s death? A death you could stop. A death you could prevent. A life that could be treasured for the rest of eternity. How do you come to terms that you could prevent this death, yet allowing it to occur anyway?

It was easy enough telling Haru to just buckle up about her father’s death, Futaba about her mother’s, it’s easier to just tell other people to cope with a death. It’s so much easier when it’s somebody else’s loss.

In the back of Akira’s mind, he had a feeling it was a little odd for Akechi to just show up in Leblanc. At the time, however, all he could focus on was Akechi being alive and free and right there in front of him. One of the red flags was that everybody had a dream world except for Akira.

There was no less hurt and shock when Maruki told him the news, no matter whether Akira had a feeling or not. When Akechi showed himself and Maruki walked away, Akira didn’t know how to feel.

“How can you be treating this like it’s no big deal?” growled Akira, gripping tightly at the fabric of his jeans.

Akechi’s eyes narrowed. “Are you flaking out now?”

Akira hesitated, which caused Akechi’s expression to sour further. Akira wasn’t flaking. He knew this wasn’t right and would stick to his guns, but he can’t comprehend how Akechi could simply brush this off. He was further upset that Akechi didn’t think to tell him, but it’s possible he simply didn’t know either.

“You’re a coward,” Akechi hissed.

Akira’s first instinct was to argue, but he knew Akechi was right. He’s a coward who's scared to lose Akechi again. For all he knows, this could be the last one-on-one conversation they’ll ever have. Akira felt his eyes burn, but he made no move to blink and wipe at them. All he could do was stare slightly behind Akechi. He couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“I’m- I’m not changing my mind,” whispered Akira. “It’s just a difficult decision.”

“What’s difficult about it? Don’t you see he did that to you as a manipulation tactic? Waving my life above you to force you to reconsider--” Akechi crossed his arms. “--I don’t know about you, but I am _done_ being manipulated and toyed with. I decide my fate. Say it aloud. Your decision.”

“I- I’m going to help you. I did agree to make a deal with you, after all. I just- How can you talk about your own life so casually?”

Akechi shrugged. “I’ve been prepared to die since I was young. Does it even matter? Your only job right now is to help me stop this bullshit.” Akechi stuffed his hands in his pocket, turning to the door and began walking. “Now that we’ve discussed, I’m going to prepare for tomorrow. Goodbye.”

Goodbye?

No.

Akira can’t leave it at that.

Everything seemed to slow down as Akechi reached for the door handle and Akira became hyper aware of his own situation way too suddenly. If he does nothing, stands there and wallows in his own cowardice, he will never have a moment with Akechi again. He can’t let it end like this.

Without a second thought and almost unaware of how quickly his own feet moved, Akira lunged forward and grabbed onto Akechi’s arm just as he reached for the door. He felt Akechi immediately stiffen as he looked over with a scowl: “What is it _now_?”

Akira swallowed. An ice block was forming in his throat. He can’t breathe. Come on. He has to speak. He needs to speak. He can’t stay silent now. He’s been too silent with Akechi for too long. He’s had too many missed opportunities. He can’t fuck this up now. Words just refused to spill from his mouth. He can’t. Every time he opened his mouth, the only thing that would escape was caught, short breaths.

Suddenly, something gentle pressed down on his head. Akira closed his mouth, vision clearing as he began to focus on Akechi whose eyes were widened, but his hand was firmly planted into Akira’s hair.

Akira looked up at him, eyes beginning to burn as his chest constricted. At least he could breathe now. It then hit him just how exhausted he was. He was so tired. He just wanted everything to be over with. Live a happy life. One without pain.

But that’s not possible.

Akechi slowly ran his hand through Akira’s hair, then ruffled it almost affectionately. Akira was too tired to stop a tear drip down his face as he gazed at Akechi curiously. Akechi _ruffling_ his hair wasn’t something he’d really expect would happen. Akira blinked. Akechi made eye contact with him before his lips quirked up. It wasn’t a sweet, genuine smile. No, Akira doubts that he would ever see that decorate Akechi’s face. This was a smirk, but there was no malice.

“Look at you. To think a _rival_ of _mine_ would be losing it so easily, hm?” Akechi slowly dragged his hand down so it cupped Akira’s cheek, his gloved thumb swiping a hot tear. “Stop that. I don’t need your pity.”

The words were said harshly, but Akechi’s expression held no harshness at all. His eyes were soft, eyebrows raised and smirk still beautifully plastering his face. Desperately, Akira reached up to hold onto Akechi’s hand that cupped him, holding it there as if it was his lifeboat. Akechi’s fingers twitched, but he made no movements away.

They stood there, Akira looking at Akechi whilst he snotted and cried all over his hand. He knew Akechi was most likely thinking him pathetic at that moment, but he was showing kindness by not mocking him. Not that Akira thinks that lowly of him, but it’s still a possibility. Akechi isn’t exactly a _kind_ person.

Finally, after Akira’s tears began to dry a bit he wordlessly pulled away from Akechi’s hand. It fell limply at his side before Akechi brushed some imaginary dust off his coat. “Aren’t you a crybaby?” he sighed. He began moving and Akira immediately panicked that he was going to leave again, however he instead went to slide onto a stool. “House blend, please.”

Akira gaped at him, wanting to say something. Anything. Instead, he just nodded and went to make coffee. It’d most likely be the boy’s last one, he’ll just have to put his heart and soul into it. Try to spill as much love as he can into it.

It was silent, even when Akira finished making it and slid the cup to Akechi. Appreciatively, he lifted it to his lips and sipped. He closed his eyes and nodded, eyelashes fluttering. After a couple beats, and all Akira could hear was his own pounding heart, Akechi’s eyes opened again. “That was one thing I never lied about.”

Akira leaned against the counter. He wanted to touch Akechi again. He made no movements.

“I did always enjoy your coffee. This is my last meal on death row.”

Akira’s stomach churned. He didn’t like the word “death” on Akechi’s tongue. He normally didn’t, but at that moment it left a particularly bitter taste in his mouth. Akira took a deep breath. However, as Akechi said, it is his last day on earth. He might as well express all of his feelings honestly and fruitfully.

“Do you know why you’re alive?” he finally said after Akechi had finished his coffee.

Akechi quirked an eyebrow. “Didn’t we already have this conversation? Don’t waste my time with dumb questions.”

“No. I don’t mean that.” Akira swallowed dryly. “Did you not wonder why my dream world is...it’s you?”

Akechi fiddled with the edges of his sleeve. “I have deduced a couple reasons.”

“And what are they?”

“Does it really matter?”

Akira gripped the countertop so tightly his fingertips turned white. “It may not matter to you, but it matters to me. Stop being selfish, Akechi.”

“...Goro.”

“Huh?”

“You may as well call me Goro.” Akechi sighed, crossing his legs and leaning his head against his palm as if he were bored. “With everything that’s going on and all.”

“Goro,” whispered Akira, testing it. “Okay, Goro. It matters to me. Why do you think I wished you back of all people?”

Akechi grit his teeth. “Probably because I’m one of your dumb fucking charity cases, yeah?”

“That’s not it at all,” Akira said, not being able to help how his voice cracked at the end. “Shit.” Here he is, getting all emotional again.

Akechi hesitated, but hastily added, “I have...Another theory.”

Akira looked at his bitten down fingernails. “And what’s that?”

Akechi stayed silent.

“Say it,” bit out Akira.

“You’re…. _infatuated_ with me.”

Akira let out a bark of laughter, dry and humorless. “Infatuated? That’s the word you chose? That’s putting it lightly.”

“And what is the word that you would choose?”

Well fuck. Akechi’s last day on earth. Might as well bare it all: “I’m...I- I love you.”

Akechi began coughing, sputtering as his eyes bulged out of his head. “I wasn’t- here you go again- just surpassing my- e-expectations!” He gave Akira an unreadable look. “I knew it, but I didn’t think you’d go and say it.”

“What uh, what better time?” Nervously chuckled Akira, rubbing the back of his neck.

A long pause then surpassed before Akechi stood up abruptly, peeling off his gloves and scarf and placing them on the counter top. “You’re quite the handful, aren’t you?” Akira looked at Akechi curiously as he made his way around the counter over to Akira’s side. “I suppose I owe you some….honesty. I’m not saying I owe you this, but accept this moment as….”

Akira couldn’t help the small bittersweet smile that tugged at his lips. “I understand.” Well, he can’t expect Akechi to always be completely vulnerable. He’ll take what scraps he can get.

Akechi peered down at Akira. Akechi wasn’t that much taller. About an inch, but Akira is sure he found great satisfaction from it, that bastard. “I feel the same way.”

Akira also knew that. Well, not completely, but he knew Akechi also held him in high regard. He didn’t want to bring it up and risk Akechi fleeing again, but there were no spoken words about what Akechi’s dream world was.

And also the fact they visited the jazz bar quite often together and Akechi mentioning offhandedly last week that he didn’t know what he’d do without Akira.

“Okay,” stammered Akira. "Can you uh- say- say it out loud? For me? Please."

Akechi sneered. "I already admitted what I needed now-" He stopped, pausing once he caught Akira's eyes directly. He went silent before softly admitting, "I love you too. You've always...well, it seemed, so I- Well, you- You've always loved me unconditionally. It's undeserving and absolutely foolish and idiotic in my opinion, but you've always been a little bit of an idiot, haven't you?"

Akechi’s face was slightly flushed, but Akira knew if he pointed it out Akechi would simply blame it on the cold. Silently, Akechi took a step back and opened up his arms.

Immediately, Akira lunged forward and buried himself in Akechi’s chest.

The dam broke.

Akira wasn’t a crier. He simply didn’t cry. He took everything with a stoic expression and tried to keep things a positive attitude around others. He accepted how life was and bent over backwards to tend to others needs. The selfless attitude was exhausting.

Just this once, he allowed himself to be selfish.

He brought his hands up around Akechi and gripped tightly, digging his fingers in the most likely expensive fabric of the coat Akechi wore. He nuzzled his face in, wiping his snot and tears all over Akechi’s jacket but he simply didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything. All Akira cared at that moment was simply not letting go of Akechi.

Slowly, Akechi lowered them to the ground, arms not fully encircled around Akira and instead placed on his biceps. Akechi leaned against the counter, Akira situated so he was between Akechi’s legs, which were stretched out. Akira’s arms were encircled around Akechi’s arms while Akechi arms were wrapped around Akira’s back. His movements were slightly stiff, Akira assuming that Akechi was most likely not used to hugs and affection such as this.

Akira dug his face into the crook of Akechi’s shoulder, letting himself wail. He wanted to scream. He wanted to break and kick things. It’s not fair. It’s never fair. It was the stupid universe’s fault for pitting two children against each other. Akira was forced to play hero, not being allowed any sort of selfishness ever in his life, but he couldn’t be allowed to save this life. No, this life was fated to die.

“It’s not fair. Not fair. Not fair. Not fair,” he weeped.

Akechi lifted his hand slowly to run his hands once again through Akira’s messy mop he calls hair. “No, it’s not.” He breathed out slowly, his neck craned slightly so he was facing upwards. “I know I say this a lot, but I really wonder why we couldn’t have just met a couple years earlier.”

Akira didn’t acknowledge what he said. There’s no point in the what-ifs. It’ll never happen. Instead he just breathed in Akechi’s scent. He didn’t smell like much, but he could get the faint whiff of expensive cologne and lavender scented shampoo. Of course Akechi smelt like lavender. He pressed his body closer against Akechi. He wanted Akechi all to himself tonight, to hell with the morality behind it all.

_Babump. Babump. Babump._

Akechi’s heart was beating. Good. It should stay like that. Akira sniffed, tears still falling freely and spilling all over. “I can’t lose you again Goro, I- I just got you back.” The way his voice cracked was humiliating, but Akechi made no comments about it. “Please. Don’t go. I can’t. Please. I can’t take it anymore.”

“You’re…” Akechi gulped. “You’re such a little weakling.” His voice held too much affection. That just made it that much harder for Akira. That much affection made his heart go berserk and his chest just constrict that much more. He felt sick. “You’ll get over me. It’s inevitable, after all.”

Akira shook his head. “I could never get over you.” It was so quiet, he wasn’t sure Akechi even heard him for a second.

“You will. Maybe you’ll find some nice girl and settle down with a well-paying job whilst you fondly look back at your thievery days. You’ll think to me and go, ‘oh gosh, what was that disaster’s name?’”

“That’s not true,” sniffled Akira, but he knew that was Akechi’s lame way of joking and trying to lighten the mood. He didn’t need that or want that. He just wanted some camera crew to jump out and go, ‘syke! It was just a prank!’

Maruki was right about one thing, and it was reality that was cruel and unforgiving.

Finally, Akira peeled himself away and leaned back to get a good look at Akechi’s face. There weren’t any tears. There weren’t any regrets in his expression. The only thing he saw was just pure melancholy. Why must everything with Akechi be so tragic?

“You really are beautiful,” muttered Akira, grabbing Akechi’s hands and cradling them in his own.

“You’re not bad looking either, I suppose.”

Akira chuckled. “Thanks.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Akira shook his head, gaze drifting from Akechi’s face down to his hands. He traced along his palm, feeling everything and drinking in how soft they felt.

“...Nothing and everything.”

Akira didn’t respond. Akechi pulled one of his hands free and gingerly tugged Akira’s chin upwards to look at him. They leaned towards each other. Akira was sure he looked like a mess at that moment, red and puffy eyes, snotty nose, big purple eyes, messy hair and all.

Their lips captured each other’s. Akechi was obviously inexperienced, their noses bumping together and teeth clashing. Akira prided himself in being a superb kisser, but he was being sloppy with pure desperation. He kissed almost aggressively, trying to take in every detail of Akechi’s mouth. He was drunk with how Akechi cradled his face. Akira gripped tighter onto Akechi’s shoulders. He never wanted to let go. He never wanted this to end.

The two ripped apart once they ran out of air, breathing deeply and resting their sweaty foreheads against each other. Akira felt the tears build up again. “Damn it,” he huffed as they began spilling again.

He pulled his head away, wiping them again as Akechi simply stared at him. After he wiped the tears away and he cleared his throat, he looked up at Akechi who was giving him a scrutinizing look.

“You’re important to me, Akira,” whispered Akechi. “You’re probably one of the most important people to me in my life. I’m sorry this hurts you. I’m selfish. It’s who I am. And as a selfish person, I can’t allow you to be selfish and let me be manipulated again. I’d rather be dead.”

“I know. All I wanted was….”

“Shh. I know. I’ve prepared myself for death for a long time. Akira you…” Akechi looked away, rubbing at his eyes. “I think you deserve a lot. I’ve….I’ve expressed many things that aren’t true, however I’m dying without regrets. I don’t regret any of the things I’ve done. I don’t want to die and let you think I’m just broken.”

“Goro-”

“You will get over me. You and your…. _friends_ have each other, yeah? Isn’t that what you’re always preaching to me you shit?” Akechi took a shaky, deep breath. “I murdered people willingly. I fantasized killing Shido. Hell, I fantasized killing you.”

“But not out of ill will…”

“Akira.”

“Sorry.”

“What I’m trying to say is me being dead in the grand scheme is more good than bad and this is the better alternative. That’s all.”

“I wish it hadn’t come to this, Goro,” whimpered Akira.

“...Me either. We could’ve been great rivals.”

“Or friends.”

Akechi had a ghost of a smile flash across his face. “Or even something more.”

“...Let’s go to bed, Goro.”

Akira was the first to stand up, knees creaking as exhaustion hit Akira. It was nowhere near night time, but he simply wanted to rest at that moment. Goro looked up at him before sighing and pulling himself up. Akira nodded and led them up to his attic, pulling off his jacket and pants.

“Stripping yourself?”

Akira glared weakly at Goro, lifting up his blankets and sliding into bed. “I told you I’m going to bed,” he grumbled. “C’mon. It can’t be comfortable to sleep in that.”

Goro gave Akira a long, confused look before shaking his head with a small chuckle. “You really are beyond my comprehension,” he whispered, almost as if in awe, before promptly shedding himself of his jacket, shoes, and jeans. Underneath was a baggy long sleeved featherman tee. Maybe later if they wake up Akira will put on some featherman for Akechi.

Goro slid into bed with Akira. “I have to admit I’ve never--” Akira immediately latched onto Goro, tangling his legs with him. “--Shared a bed with somebody! Oh my fucking god Akira your fucking feet are like ice.”

Akira laughed lightly into Goro’s chest, snuggling into it. Goro slowly wrapped one arm around Akira, almost protectively. “...Your bed is uncomfortable,” he breathed.

“You get used to it.”

“...Good night, Akira.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Goro.”

**Author's Note:**

> follow my tumblr n twitter:  
> @akechisthickass

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [small potatoes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23745112) by [thewritingbarista](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewritingbarista/pseuds/thewritingbarista)




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